Legion Of Filth Erotic Stories NEW RELEASE
If you ask me, my mom’s fucked-up time-outs should really be called time-ins. I’m just saying. I’m not trying to be crass. Just accurate.
If you ask me, my mom’s fucked-up time-outs should really be called time-ins. I’m just saying. I’m not trying to be crass. Just accurate. So many things in life are inaccurate. Or, let’s face it, false. Or just lazily handled. So, I would like to get this one thing right. And that is my mom’s fucked-up time-outs should really be called time-ins.
For the rest of that night and into the next, things between my mom and me were even weirder. I didn’t know when she intended to collect on her next time-out.
To make matters worse, every time I saw my mom, I was tempted to further plead my case. I mean, if you ask me, a time-out for simply asking if my mom should call her time-outs time-ins was a bit cheap. You mean, I can’t even talk about the time-outs? I don’t get it.
After all, technically, it really was time-ins. Time-ins inside her, well, pussy.
Regardless, I wasn’t about to say shit. As arbitrary as my mom was being about handing out these time-outs, she might give me a couple more for daring to bring it up again. Talk about touchy.
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The first encounter, which came later that same night, just before bed, I was standing in the kitchen and my mom slipped past me, dragging her fingertips across the bulge in my shorts.
“Oh. Hey…” I said, surprised.
“Hello, baby…” my spry little mom said, continuing on through the kitchen and into the living room.